Those Were Orders
by isabellamaries
Summary: Castiel finds out Meg is dead. Between 8x20 and 8x21. Oneshot.


Protecting the angel tablet was the number one most important thing to Castiel, and now it was gone. He was too weak to go after it and obtain it once again successfully without getting himself killed. Castiel figured that he was of no use once he was dead. In fact, there were no other angels that would side with him. He crawled as far as he could, tried to teleport, tried everything, but the bullet that used to be in his stomach caused the area to burn and was making him bleed everywhere. Castiel found that his only hope might be to somehow get to the Winchesters.

So to the Winchesters he went.

He teleported just a few feet ahead and set himself down in the middle of the road. Castiel found that he did not have the strength to stand up for a prolonged amount of time. Just a few seconds later, Castiel could hear Dean and Sam Winchester's cries as the Impala came to a screeching stop. They rushed over to help him. Their voices seemed slurred and twisted from Castiel's perspective of the pain effecting everything inside him.

The brothers helped Castiel stand up and the ringing in Castiel's head subsided. "They have the tablet." He told them.

"Crowley or the angels?" Castiel heard Dean ask him. He shook his head, "I don't know. Where is Meg?" Sam and Dean glanced at each other with a millisecond of fright etched on their faces at how they would tell Cas of the news about Meg. Castiel watched Sam and Dean make symbols with their hands spontaneously, like a fist and a flat palm.

"Cas," Dean started, in a slow and in an matter-of-fact tone, "Meg's dead. Crowley got to her."

It took a few seconds for Castiel to take in the information. He felt as though the physical pain inside him had been expelled completely, or numbed out. He didn't feel anything but shock. He took Sam and Dean's grip on him and pushed them off. He staggered a bit, holding his stomach to make sure he didn't fall over.

"_You were supposed to protect her!_" Castiel shrieked, his voice hoarse. Sam stepped forward and was going to make sure that Castiel was still strong enough to stand and was ready to explain everything, "Cas—"

Anger fueling up in the angel like a pain-killer and at the flapping of his wings, Castiel was gone. He had only gone a mile away from them so it wasn't impossible to find the Winchesters again with such difficulty. Castiel felt that he needed time alone. Actually, he needed _quite_ a bit of time alone.

"Those were orders," the voice in Castiel's head repeated, over and over again. "Those were orders, Sam Winchester. Now, Meg Masters is dead." Castiel understood now about human sadness. He could feel the salty wet on his eyes. He at first thought it was blood, but when he dabbed his finger into it, he only saw from the bright moonlight that it was clear. Castiel accepted it. He understood. He let the clear, salty tears fall from his vessel's eyes. He let his vessel shake and he let himself wail. He let his vessel fall to the ground and curl in a ball, rocking back and forth with the tears staining his face. Was it even possible for him and Meg to have a life together? An angel and a demon, having a life together?

He was already wanted by Naomi and her posse. His garrison had been decimated, with Castiel one of the few that was left. He had rebelled against Heaven to nearly the greatest extent. (Even Castiel wouldn't go to the greatest extent— the Lucifer extent.) So, since he was rebelling almost on a daily basis, now, what was the problem with being in a presence of a demon, for good, who meant absolutely no harm to Heaven?

It was very possible. All they had to do was survive. They even planned it. But they failed as an outcome, like it was always meant to be. Why did it have to be them?

Castiel didn't bother wiping off his face. He didn't know it was proper, anyway. His sadness was slowly turning into outrage. Castiel could feel the tears dry on his face and his hands stopped shaking so much. They were just positioning into a fist.

"Those were orders." the voice in his head said again, "Those were orders. Those were orders, Sam Winchester." Castiel's teeth clenched, and his hands were finally curled into a strong fist. He furrowed his eyebrows in anger and punched the loose dirt in the ground. It flew around in different directions, leaving a circle in the ground. Castiel knew he wasn't mad enough to do anything to Sam Winchester. He spent so much trying to protect him, because Sam was his friend. It wasn't Sam's fault that Meg died: not really. Castiel knew Sam would have tried to save her, at the least.

Crowley.

This was all Crowley, and everything was caused by Crowley. This was Crowley's fault. Casitl let one last tear fall before he started to whisper to himself a promise. "I'm going to kill you, Crowley," he grunted, "And it's going to be for Meg, and you'll know it. I'm going to make _sure _you know it, and you're not going to know anything else again."

With the words of quiet anger-fueled encouragement to himself, Castiel flew back to Sam and Dean and was ready to plan out war. It was for heaven, to protect the angel tablet, and it was for Meg Masters.

A/N: Please tell me how I did! This is my first Megstiel fic with angst.


End file.
